First Fight
by Miko Akako
Summary: Kurt and David have been dating for two years. Is their first fight also their last? Future AU. Kurtofsky. Response to a prompt from the glee angst meme at lj. Part four of the 'First's Verse'. Can be read as a stand alone.


**Story:** First Fight  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta<strong>: None  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: None  
><strong>PairingCharacter**: Kurt/Dave, Rachel  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 3,535  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Kurt and David have been dating for two years. Is their first fight also their last? Future AU. Kurtofsky. Response to a prompt from the glee angst meme at lj. Part four of the 'First's Verse'.

**A/N: **For those of you wondering, I am posting this out of order. I don't have part two (First 'I love you') or part three (first time) written (although part two is about half way there). This was inspired by a prompt on the glee angst meme, and it fit so well with this universe that I had to write it. Full prompt is at the bottom.

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><p><em>Dave's PoV<em>

"We can't all be fucking PERFECT like you, Kurt." The argument had long escalated into a shouting match. Kurt's standing, face flushed in a way that would normally be a turn on for Dave, if Dave wasn't so angry at the fashion student. He knew his own color had risen, and he had to clench his teeth in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

"Well you can at least try!" Dave crossed his arms, leaning back against Kurt's words. "You can't even clean up after yourself. You leave your disgusting uniforms all over the bathroom, and heaven forbid I ask you to actually clean your dishes. You're like an infant. A fat, smelly infant!" The intensity behind Kurt's words had Dave reeling. Obviously it was something that had been bothering Kurt for a while. He'd never said before, and it only fueled Dave's anger.

"At least I don't have to try on every single outfit in the morning before I can leave. I can't tell the difference between this season or last season's Alexander Queen –"

"McQueen. It's Alexander _Mc_Queen, you idiot!" It was ridiculous that Kurt chose that moment to correct Dave, and Dave threw up his arms in desperation. It was nothing – he was across the room from Kurt and he was even turning away, not going towards him – but Kurt went white as a sheet and actually stumbled backwards. The fight drained out of Dave as quickly as if he'd had cold water thrown over him. He hadn't seen that expression on Kurt's face since that time in the locker room. He could have gone his whole life without seeing it again, without causing it again, and it wouldn't be long enough.

"Kurt –" He took a halting step forward, wishing he knew what to do to erase the absolute terror on Kurt's face. Instead, Kurt' hand found its way to his mouth, muffling a strangled sob, and then the smaller boy was gone. The door to their small apartment slammed shut and Dave was left standing alone, wondering if their first fight was also going to be their last.

Dave woke up the next morning, face pressed against the cool glass of the dining table where he'd been sitting the night before, waiting for Kurt to come home. He'd called Rachel, but she was Kurt's friend, so he hadn't expected her to call and tell him if Kurt showed up there. He hoped she would – she had been one of the few people who supported him and Kurt when they went public with their relationship.

As soon as he hung up with her, he dialed Kurt and ran out of the apartment. He made it all the way to the road before realizing it was February and, since the sun had set an hour ago, well below freezing. He considered going up to get a jacket, but he needed to find Kurt. He went to the coffee shop around the corner; one they'd found a year and a half ago after they'd first moved to New York. The girl behind the counter waved, but he was too distraught to even acknowledge her. Next he tried Central Park. Kurt had gone there after his first rejection at NYU's theatre program, but the bench the diva had deemed 'his' was empty.

Then Dave started getting desperate. He went to Rachel's, and she insisted he come inside and explain what happened to her, but he passed and begged her to just call if she heard anything. His last try was Blaine's apartment, but even though Kurt and Blaine had made up, he didn't think Kurt would go there. Blaine, for all Dave still wanted to punch him for hurting Kurt like he had, was honestly sorry, and promised to call if he heard anything.

So Dave had no choice but to give up and head home, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut. It was closing in on midnight, and the idea of Kurt outside in New York at night made him physically ill. He swung by the coffee shop again, picking up a grande nonfat mocha for Kurt and a grande caramel macchiato for himself before heading back to the apartment. He sat at the table, the drinks untouched in front of him, looking at the door and willing it to open and reveal Kurt.

He figured he must have fallen asleep sometime around 3 AM, because that was the last time he remembered dialing Kurt's number. It had gone to voicemail, just has it had every time he'd tried. He didn't bother to leave a message, because he honestly wasn't sure what he could say.

Dave would never hit Kurt no matter how mad he got. He knew he used to have anger management problems, but the therapist his dad sent him to had helped him work out of that. Besides, it was one thing to shove someone into a locker and a completely different issue to actually abuse someone. Or it was in Dave's mind, at least. Maybe he really had been about to hit Kurt. Kurt could have seen something in his face he hadn't known was there, and that was why he'd flinched. After all, Dave couldn't entirely remember what he'd felt. He had been angry, yes, and he had always been physical.

God, Dave couldn't blame Kurt for running out on him. It was better, he decided. Kurt had always been able to see what Dave was thinking and feeling before Dave himself knew. If Kurt thought Dave was going to hit him, then who was Dave to argue?

Dave stood up, wanting nothing more than to escape from his own self. He walked to the bathroom – immaculate since Kurt insisted on nothing less – and stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. His eyes were bloodshot, heavy bags hanging under them. The longer he looked at himself, the easier it was for him to understand why Kurt hated him.

He had always been a screw up. How had he expected Kurt could ever love him, let alone want to be with him forever. The past two years had been perfect. So much more than he'd ever hoped for. Hell, he could have died happy after that first date to the art festival. It really only had been a matter of time until he did something wrong, until Kurt realized what a mistake he made when he agreed to date Dave.

The sound of glass shattering startled Dave. He hadn't realized his fist was raised until he felt the mirror break under it. The pain was intense and he clenched it against his chest tightly. He pulled it up, opening his hand and watching the blood flow from several deep gashes on his knuckles.

"Shit!" He shouted, slamming his hurt hand, open faced, into the remaining glass. It added a cut to his palm, but he didn't care. "Fuck! Shit!" He took what small pleasure he could in the pain, because for a moment it distracted him from the gaping hole he felt in his chest. He grabbed a handful of tissues from beside the sink and held it on his cuts. Suddenly, he was exhausted. He fell back against the wall and sunk to the ground. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd die from bloodloss.

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><p><em>Kurt's PoV<em>

Kurt didn't even remember how the fight had started. One minute they'd been talking about going to see Rachel's play at Julliard and the next they were shouting at the top of their lungs about the most absurd things. Their words were a blur. Everything up until Dave had lifted his arm was pretty much erased from Kurt's memory.

He'd acted instinctively, flinching back. He didn't really think Dave would hit him. Dave, who had been afraid to hug him for months, and who still held him like he was a glass doll. Dave, who had done nothing but love and support him for two years, even when he knew he was acting like a spoilt child. And Kurt flinched away from him.

He couldn't miss the hurt in Dave's eyes. He saw the anger die, and pain and guilt replace it. So Kurt ran. His first thought was to go to Rachel's, but he knew that would be the first place Dave looked, if Dave bothered to look at all. He considered Central Park, but the idea of being alone there terrified him. Then he remembered one of the girls he'd taken several classes with lived just a few blocks away and he changed his path.

Gina was technically a senior, but she'd missed a few prerequisite classes and so had been in some of the predominantly freshman classes. Most of her body was covered in tattoo's, and her hair was a different color every few weeks. Most recently it was a subdued pink. Her outfits tended to be more extreme than Kurt's, favoring neon colors paired with black or white, depending on her mood.

Gina had been more than willing to let him stay on her couch over night. He'd mumbled out something about being in a fight with Dave and she melted. Apparently her boyfriend had broken up with her a few days ago, so she sympathized. That was when Kurt realized that his relationship might be over.

The thought filled his heart with dread. He'd sat up all night thinking about it. What would he do without David there to support him? For two years Dave had been there for Kurt, no matter what. Longer than that, because their relationship changed the summer after Junior year when Dave had apologized profusely for his weakness at Prom. They'd been friends for months before they started dating – mostly because Kurt was blindly in love with Blaine still.

Dave had been there for Kurt the first few weeks of school when he was so homesick he actually forgot to eat. It was Dave who forced him to eat three meals a day, once even sitting Kurt on his lap and holding him there until the entire meal was gone. And then Dave had arranged for Burt to visit, even picking him up at the airport and driving him back to Kurt's dorm so it would be a surprise. And a million other little things that Kurt had just assumed would always be there.

The next morning Kurt left after thanking Gina profusely and promising to call her later and let her know what happened. He was terrified to going home – was it still home anymore? Technically it was David who had signed the lease. Instead, he stopped by Rachel's. She answered the door on the first knock, flinging it open and hugging him tightly.

"David came by last night but he didn't explain anything. You know I'm on your side, right? Tell me what happened." Kurt took comfort in her arms for a few minutes before pulling away. He didn't deserve sympathy. He was the one who was wrong.

"It wasn't Dave," He said, sitting heavily on the couch. Rachel brought him a mug of coffee and he held it numbly, not interested in drinking it. "I think I messed up the best thing in my life…" He explained in stuttering sentences punctuated by sobs. He hadn't let himself cry the night before, but now it came out in a flood. Rachel listened patiently, something he appreciated because he saw how she was itching to interrupt. When he finished, she put a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think Dave was mad at you, Kurt. He looked like he ran all over New York looking for you. I think you need to go talk to him. If he really does want to break up, it's his loss. You'll move on and find someone better." Kurt nodded, accepting the offered tissue and dabbing at his eyes and nose. "But I think he'll understand. You just have to go talk to him. And you always have a place here. I'm sure Finn won't mind. He's been talking about how little he gets to see you anyway."

"Thanks Rach," Kurt said, standing up. They said their goodbyes and Kurt found himself outside once again. He had no choice now but to go face Dave. It was past noon, but there were no new calls on Kurt's phone. The last time Dave had called was just after three in the morning. Kurt found himself at the apartment long before he was ready, and stalled several more minutes outside the door.

* * *

><p><em>Dave's PoV<em>

"David?" Kurt's voice cut through the silence of the apartment. At first Dave thought he was hearing things, but then the tentative call came again. If Dave wasn't so damn tired he would have answered. If he wasn't so sure Kurt was just coming to officially end it, he might have gone to meet him at the door. Instead, he just stayed where he was. With any luck, Kurt would just take his things and leave.

Obviously luck wasn't on his side because he heard Kurt's footsteps draw near. He opened his hand, surprised to see that his blood had soaked through all the tissues he'd grabbed and dripped onto his jeans. Opening his hand reopened the cuts, the skin pulling and making him wince. He must have made a sound because he heard Kurt pause before his steps came quicker. "David?"

"Kurt…" Dave looked up when Kurt arrived in the doorway. Damn, Kurt was even more beautiful than he remembered. He closed his eyes, hoping Kurt would just leave because every second it dragged out was making it hurt that much more. But Kurt didn't leave.

"Oh my god," Kurt was on the floor in a second, kneeling away from the glass. He took Dave's hand in one of his and put the other on Dave's forehead. David hissed in pain when Kurt's warm fingers were replaced by a cold cloth, the water stinging in his open cuts. He opened his eyes to see Kurt holding his hand open, using tweezers to pull out tiny pieces of glass.

"You don't have to do that," Dave said, pulling his hand back. Kurt didn't let go, matching his strength.

"Just a few more minutes and I'll be done," Kurt said, biting his lip. Dave gave up, leaving Kurt to his ministrations. True to his word, Kurt finished quickly and grabbed the first aid kit. After cleaning the wounds with hydrogen peroxide and applying a liberal amount of Neosporin, Kurt wrapped the wounds up and rocked back on his heel.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," Dave said, standing up shakily. He was still a little woozy from bloodloss – it wasn't enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, but it was enough to make the world spin from any sudden movement. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"I know," Kurt said, grabbing his good hand and pulling him into the bedroom. They sat on the edge of the bed – Kurt pulling Dave down gently. "I'm such an idiot. Just go to sleep, and we'll talk about it later. I…I love you."

When Dave woke again, he felt Kurt's arm draped across his waist, the smaller boy's head tucked on his shoulder. From the slow breaths, he knew Kurt was asleep. He just lay like that, enjoying the feel of Kurt's body pressed against his, the way they fit together so perfectly. After a few minutes, his shoulder fell asleep and his arm cramped.

Kurt's eyes fluttered open, meeting Dave's with a smile. Dave took advantage of Kurt's momentary disorientation to kiss him softly, savoring the taste of Kurt's lips in case this was the last time. When Kurt pulled back, Dave pushed himself up so he was sitting. His hand was sore, but the blood hadn't soaked through the bandage so he took that as a good sign. The bed shifted as Kurt sat up and Dave's glance slid over him to rest on the open door behind him.

"I guess…we need to talk?" Dave's voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. He wished the previous night could just be erased, stricken from his memory forever. The look on Kurt's face told him that it just wasn't possible.

"Yeah. Guess so," Kurt said, sitting just out of Dave's reach. Neither wanted to break the silence that separated them. Dave knew Kurt was leaving him, hell, he didn't even _blame_ Kurt for leaving him, but that didn't erase the feeling that if he could just find the right words, maybe he could salvage their relationship enough to be friends. Kurt was it for Dave; that much had been obvious since high school.

He would probably find someone else, eventually, but they'd never have his whole heart. They wouldn't understand how difficult it was; they wouldn't know the words to say when Dave hated himself so much for what he'd done in the past that he wished he was dead. Kurt, though; Kurt would be fine. Kurt would realize he was better off and find someone beautiful and perfect to love him and to love in return. In retrospect, Dave wondered why he even bothered to get up the courage to ask Kurt out, when he'd known they could never last. He really was a masochist.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Kurt." They weren't the elegant apology he wanted, but they were all he could think of. They were the words repeating in his head, over and over, and they'd just slipped out before he could form anything else. He probably couldn't have come up with anything better anyway; he never had been good with words. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"I _know_ you would never hurt me. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking. I just…please forgive me." The pain in Kurt's eyes as they rose to meet Dave's was blinding. It took Dave's brain several seconds to process what Kurt had just said.

"Forgive you?" Dave frowned. Kurt hadn't done anything wrong. "I shouldn't have raised my hand. I know I've hurt you before. I just didn't think…It was my fault."

"So you don't want to break up with me?" For the first time, hope rose in Dave's chest.

"Never. I thought…I thought you were going to break up with me." Even saying the words hurt. But Kurt closed the gap between them in an instant, arms thrown around Dave. He returned the embrace, taking strength in Kurt's nearness.

"Never," Kurt said vehemently, pressing his forehead to Dave's. Dave wasn't sure who moved first, but before he knew it their lips were fused. He felt Kurt bite his bottom lip gently, and he responded eagerly. Kurt's hands traced his back before coming up and gripping his shoulders. Dave's own hands found their way under Kurt's shirt, pushing it up and breaking the kiss only long enough to remove the unwanted fabric.

"Nngh…Stop. We still have to talk," Kurt said, pushing against Dave's chest – when had his shirt come off? – and leaning away. "We both said horrible things – I said horrible things." Kurt's words came back, crystal clear, and Dave couldn't help the old wounds they reopened. They echoed words Kurt had spoken to him after their first kiss – the one neither of them really wanted, the one that had nearly broken their relationship beyond repair.

"Yeah," Dave said.

"I didn't mean them. You know how I get when I'm mad. I just start talking and I can't stop. I didn't mean them, though. I love you. Everything about you."

"Yeah, well, you weren't the only one who said things they regret, Fancy." Dave felt his lips curl into a smile to match Kurt's at the use of the nickname. "I love that you care so much how you look. Though personally, I like you better with nothing on."

"Hush," Kurt said, punching Dave gently with the hand still on his chest. He didn't resist when Dave used his momentum to pull him forward, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close, pressing his lips just below Kurt's ear in the place that always made the boy melt. He flicked out his tongue, taking delight in the moan Kurt couldn't stifle.

"We still need to talk…Aaagh…" Kurt said, clinging to Dave's arm, pushing it half heartedly. Dave sighed pulling away and kissing his lips. Kurt melted in to him, pressed their bodies together.

"I forgive you," Dave said. "Do you forgive me?"

"Of course. Are y –" Dave silenced Kurt with his lips, his hand gliding down Kurt's chest to his pants, palming him over his pants.

"No more talking, then." Kurt just nodded, eyes glazed over with lust. "We're okay. We'll be okay." He still couldn't be sure about the future, but for now, they were okay.

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><p><strong>Full Prompt: <strong>So, Dave and Kurt are dating. Maybe in college, maybe right after; whichever.  
>Thing is, they're having their first argument as a couple. Kurt's yelling. Dave raises his hand just to make a point about something, and Kurt flinches back a step.<br>They both freeze in shock, Dave opens his mouth to apologize, and Kurt runs from the room.  
>What happens next? Where do they go from there?<p> 


End file.
